


Roots

by ukenceto



Series: Love beyond the bones [10]
Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukenceto/pseuds/ukenceto
Summary: A glimpse at a life that could have been.
Relationships: Damon Baird/Marcus Fenix
Series: Love beyond the bones [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1025247
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Roots

The truck was giving him problems again.

Nothing huge, hell, in fact hardly anything noticeable if you weren’t paying attention; but Marcus was. The occasional _off_ noise, where there should’ve been just the steady hum of the old engine. Not enough to halt its motion yet, but definitely promising to if left unattended.

So here he was, up to his elbows in grease and with the afternoon sun warming up his back. Though despite it, he could still feel the slight chill in the air, not unusual for late autumn. The sleeves of his sweater rolled up high, he hummed under his breath, trying to reach a tricky part underneath the case – if he could check it out like that, it would save him from having to disassemble half the said engine.

Because he’d already checked everything else, and was running out of possible causes. True, the car was vintage and had survived two wars basically, but he’d meticulously brought it back to its former glory, until it became a reliable means of transportation, to almost being a point of pride for Marcus.

Only old solar-powered vehicles such as this could be used nowadays, with the Imulsion gone for good. But they were hard to find, and even harder to repair, so maintenance was key.

Cursing as his fingers slipped over the tubing he’d been trying to follow, he leaned in just a bit further, hoping to get to that dreaded inch of roughened plastic again. He’d barely grazed it, but something feeling suspiciously much like a crack had left him with a bad feeling.

“A little further and you’re gonna lay over that poor thing.”

“Unless you fancy taking the engine apart for nothing, I gotta make sure the problem’s what I think it is.” Grunting with effort still, Marcus glanced over to where Carlos was leaning on the truck’s side, basking in the sun; a small smile curling in the corners of his lips.

“Still don’t know how you even heard it. When I drive, there’s enough noise to drown the radio.” His tone was light, the same peaceful note seemingly telling the world he’d disassemble and reassemble that truck as many times as Marcus required it still.

It had taken them over an year to get it running, the first time around. And fiddling with it had become a pleasant past time, something to do whenever there weren't more pressing tasks at hand.

“That’s because the roads are bad. And you haven’t tried leaving the engine to run empty.” Finally, Marcus pulled his arm out, and was about to rest his hands on his hips when he remembered they were stained with machine oil. “There’s a crack, I’m sure of it. Half an inch or so.”

“We can patch it up with the heat gun. But won’t do without removing the rest of this of first.” Taking the worn cloth which Carlos handed him, Marcus watched as he moved away from his spot, picking up a stray wrench which had fallen on the ground. “Maybe not today though. It’ll get dark by the time I’m halfway there.”

“Yeah, we’re not in a rush. Got the bikes still.” Cleaning his hands, Marcus realized they’d actually been at this for hours already. The time had passed so easily, he hadn’t thought twice about it. Listening to Carlos musing about the last trip to the settlements he’d gone on alongside Baird, the way everyone was busy preparing for winter, gathering the last harvest for the year.

They’d traded some things too, though most of what they got from the land stayed in the basement of the mansion, since it was where it would keep for the longest time.

He’d gotten a word in sometimes, or the occasional chuckle which escaped him whenever Carlos as always succeeded to make him laugh about something ridiculous; all in all, even though they were technically getting some work done, Marcus felt more rested than even after a full night’s sleep.

“The bikes are alright as long as the weather keeps dry. Wouldn’t wanna rely on them alone though, not here.” Taking the case with the instruments, Carlos bumped their shoulders. “Don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Dinner time?”

“It’s not a part we don’t have, so we’ll fix it soon alright.” Marcus closed the hood, then hummed in agreement. “James asked for something with pumpkin earlier, so I left him and Baird to handle that.”

“You think they did?” Glancing over to the house, Carlos lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t see the kitchen being on fire, so maybe it’s a good sign.”

“Can never know with those two.” Patting Carlos’ back lightly, Marcus took the instrument case from his hand. “Go check up on them, I’ll take this back to the shed.”

“That little bean’s usually always around us when we work on the truck. Must be they’ve kept busy enough as is today though.” Crossing his arms, Carlos sighed slightly, an expression Marcus couldn’t pinpoint passing over his features, faster than the flutter of a bird’s wings.

“What is it?” It was rare that he couldn’t guess what was on Carlos’ mind – usually the two of them could read each other like an open book. Even after all the years of separation, they’d grown close enough for that again; or perhaps, as Marcus thought sometimes, it was a thing which had always been there between them, from the start. That neither death, nor pain or time could ever take away.

“Reminded me of us. When we were kids, and would go around ‘helping’ dad in the garage?” Carlos looked away, his gaze falling to the line of trees behind Marcus. “You ever wonder, what life would've gone like if I had taken on the family business?”

_If we’d never gone to the army,_ remained unsaid, but Marcus didn’t need it put in words to know it’s what Carlos had meant.

If they hadn’t become who they did, if Marcus was an officer from the start, and Carlos never a Gear, if they didn’t know Aspho as more than a name read in the paper.

“Maybe we would’ve never made it past E-day.” Marcus had wondered. Many a night, he’d spent thinking, twisting his thoughts up in knots, in endless loops of the same rope which had bound his mind to his pain; to the loss he’d never thought reversible.

“Perhaps, but no amount of thinking can change the past.” Shrugging his shoulders, Carlos met his eyes again, that same faraway sadness flickering in his gaze for a brief moment, before disappearing, until all Marcus could see was the gentle, nearly melancholic spark of mirth which had always been a part of him. “We’re here, now, after all that. And I gotta say, JD’s a lot better behaved than we ever were.”

“Only cause I’m trying. Baird would spoil him rotten if he got the chance.” Marcus smiled slightly as his words made Carlos laugh, the sound dispelling any remains of the terse mood which had overcome them a moment ago.

“How can he not? He’s too adorable and you know it.” Looking back to the house at the sound of the door opening, Carlos grinned. “Plus, I’m his uncle and can spoil him as much as I want to.”

“Not the point, but you’re getting away with it, for now.” Marcus just shook his head, briefly musing over the woes of being a parent. Though the instant he saw James running over to them, a huge smile on his face and his shirt all covered in flour handprints, he never doubted it was worth it, a million times and then this much again.

“We made pumpkin pie, come look!” James chatted excitedly, pulling onto Carlos’ hand, who had kneeled next to him, tousling his hair, until the soft blonde strands were reminiscent of a fluffed up dandelion.

Baird was following behind him with a proud smile, having seemingly managed to keep a tad cleaner, but only so; a tiny white handprint adorned his cheek and there was definitely flour in his hair too.

“It actually looks very good, so you should really take a look before we bake it.” It was rare for Baird to cook anything more complicated than eggs, so Marcus looked at him in surprise. “Come on, have a little faith, will you?”

“Not being skeptical here, but since when can you make pie?” Pulling him closer by the waist, Marcus placed a quick kiss on his temple, knowing how to get back on his good side. “And we’ll see it, closed up the works for the day.”

“Since I asked for the recipe last time I was at the settlement.” Huffing, but staying close to Marcus still, Baird looked at James fondly. “I wanted to learn to make something he likes.”

“Then you have definitely succeeded.” Marcus smiled, noting how James was still a bundle of energetic joy, and had gotten to his favorite place – perched on Carlos’ shoulders, giving the occasional excited yelp as he was carried towards the house, the high place surely giving him different and interesting perspective on the otherwise well-known world of the garden around.

“You should’ve seen him, he was so happy.” Baird rested his hand on Marcus’ back, holding him close. “And when we got to cut and place the leaves, his face was a bit like yours when you’re careful with something, so intensely focused.”

“I would say that’s you, usually.” Marcus could almost imagine them, leaned over the counter, shaping up the pie dough, James asking something at every step of the way, as always so curious to anything new. “Or perhaps he got it from both of us.”

“I promised him you and Carlos will help us make waffles the next time, so you’ll get to see for yourself.” Glancing up, Baird pulled on his arm lightly. “Let’s go, you’ve done enough out here today.”

Walking side by side with Baird, to the few short steps which led to their home, Marcus felt inexplicable gratitude at life in this very moment. That he’d grown to know happiness which could reach deeply enough to make his heart ache.

The sun was setting, its light matching the vivid colors of the trees all around them; a plethora of orange, red, yellow, purple. The wind rustled gently between the leaves, with the promise of another warm night.

**Author's Note:**

> For all my *Carlos lives* ideas/art, I hadn't written anything about that (until now). 
> 
> I just wanted to have this little moment of them being happy together.


End file.
